


If I saw you in heaven

by PrimeJive



Category: Queen (Band)
Genre: Angst, Best Friends, Death of a friend, Fluffy Ending, Grief/Mourning, Other, Post-Reflections, Sad, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:21:51
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27632002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrimeJive/pseuds/PrimeJive
Summary: Three hundred yards.Three hundred bloody yards. Is that the measure of despair?Year after year, Roger hopes in vain that this date would never come again. As soon as the Halloween’s revelry fades, November appears as a shadowed silhouette to remind the old drummer that he won’t hear anyone call him “blondie” again. Once more, he’s aware of the certainty that his phone ringing won’t bring him a “darling” when he picks it up.November is the fog around his heart repeating in an eternal and cruel loop that he is no longer here, with him.
Comments: 13
Kudos: 27





	If I saw you in heaven

**Author's Note:**

> The song is Tears in Heaven, by Eric Clapton.

_**Would you know my name** _

_**If I saw you in heaven?** _

Three hundred yards. 

Three hundred _bloody_ yards. Is that the measure of despair? 

Year after year, Roger hopes in vain that _this_ date would never come again. As soon as the Halloween’s revelry fades, November appears as a shadowed silhouette to remind the old drummer that he won’t hear anyone call him “blondie” again. Once more, he’s aware of the certainty that his phone ringing won’t bring him a “darling” when he picks it up.

November is the fog around his heart repeating in an eternal and cruel loop that _he is no longer here, with him._

As the days go by, he curses those infamous three hundred yards that separated him from his last goodbye. He didn’t make it in time. He would have liked to even just be in the same room, watching over him as he took his last breath. So that he would know, that he would _feel_ that Roger was there.

 _His last breath._ Just thinking about it makes Roger feel dizzy and nauseous. He feels a lump in his throat and tries to breathe in and out. This happens every damned time he thinks about those yards, about how he could not keep his promise until the very end. What a lame excuse of a friend. 

_Would Fred still recognize his face when they saw each other in heaven?_

He sinks in the cushion of his garden chair as his breathing slowly goes back to normal. Roger looks around: a beautiful mansion, a ridiculously huge backyard. A bucolic fantasy that makes no sense if Freddie is not there, cheerfully barging into the afternoon drowsiness. 

The last twenty-nine years felt like he had lost a piece of a puzzle. One of the central pieces. A hole in the most perfect picture he could have imagined.

_**Would you help me stand** _

_**If I saw you in heaven?** _

Broken. After Freddie’s death, Roger felt like he had been shattered to pieces in such a way that he doubted he could ever be fixed. Debbie held his hand; Dom wiped his tears. And when the love of his women was not enough, the warmth of his children built a shelter for his soul. 

The domesticity he feared so much in the past was his salvation. His home became a safe place to put back together his pieces and to gather strength to face the merciless media. Freddie was already dead, but they were still ripping off of his memory, like vultures, devouring every little gory detail of his last days. 

He would call him during those long, agonizing nights. He would walk in circles in his stupidly big living room. He would go down the stairs and lock himself in his studio. He would murmur his name and recite it like a mantra, waiting for his best friend’s voice to talk back. It somehow felt like those years when they were young and shared a flat in London. They would lie on their beds in their shared room and chat about random things for hours in the dark. Only their voices would fill the night.

But now, there was no answer. It was just Roger, talking to the darkness, into the void, sinking slowly in the pain of his grief. 

_**Time can bring you down, time can bend your knees.** _

_**Time can break your heart, have you begging please.** _

He could not even prevent John from quitting. Brian assured him that it was not his fault, but Roger had made a silent, secret promise to Fred. He would take care of John and his delicate mood swings, he would keep them together, Queen would _live_.

And as the days went by, he tried by all means to keep that promise. 

John’s retirement was a hard pill to swallow, and after the anger and the resentment, the resignation came. He could not reach John anymore, and that was something he and Brian had to deal with. The guitarist would say years later that it was like losing another friend. _Another piece of the puzzle_ , the drummer would bitterly think.

John vanishing was like those three hundred yards. One more thing he could not do for Fred. Another vow he had failed to keep. And Roger could no longer bear breaking his own promises anymore.

_**I'll find my way through night and day** _

__

_**I must be strong and carry on** _

_**'Cause I know I don't belong here in heaven** _

Maybe calling Fred every night had worked out in the end, Roger thought as soon as everything started to fall in it’s right place.

Despite his solemn silence, John gave them his blessing to do as they pleased with Queen. And the only thing that Brian and Roger wanted was to keep Queen alive.

A new Queen era was surfacing. The idea of playing Queen songs with other talented singers was exciting, yet a constant reminder that no one could ever be Freddie. And that was fine because neither Brian nor Roger were looking for Fred’s replacement. They just wanted to keep playing and touring. For Roger, it was more than that: it became his sacred ritual to feel his best friend alive.

 _They were alive, and Freddie was not_. Someday they would all belong to heaven, but ‘til then they had to honor the singer’s legacy the way he would love the most: giving a long life to Queen, _their_ Queen. No matter how hard it would be sometimes to play on stage without Fred, or John. It was not about them: it was about _him_.

_**Would you be the same** _

_**If I saw you in heaven?** _

Roger sighs and looks at his twenty feet bronze Freddie statue on his backyard. He smiles and remembers how choleric Brian was when he found out that Roger took it away from the Dominion Theatre as soon as that bloody musical ended. 

_“You have no right, Roger. I have the same rights over Queen”, Brian spat in Roger’s office. It was his final sentence after a big fat rant about how bossy and childish Roger could get. The old drummer was amazed about how Brian could switch from a sweet grandpa to a grumpy, old lady giving him a tedious lecture._

_“Certainly, you have the same rights when it comes to Queen, mate. But when it comes to Fred, there is no one in Queen with more right to have this statue than me. And you know that” Roger said surprisingly calmed._

_Brian softened his gaze and a weak smile appeared on his lips._

_“I guess… God, it bothers me to admit it, but yes. I guess you’re right” Brian sighed and looked through the window, staring at the bronze figure “You shared a lifetime, am I wrong?” he said without averting his eyes from the statue._

_“We shared more than meets the eye,” Roger said with a raspy voice. He couldn’t see the sweet smile on Brian’s face._

_“I know, Rog. I know,” the guitarist almost whispered._

While looking at _his_ Freddie made of bronze, Roger asks himself what will happen the day he reaches the place where his best lad had been the last twenty-nine years.

_Would Freddie look the same?_

_Would he be proud of what he and Brian did with Queen and his legacy?_

His trail of thoughts is interrupted by some strident laughs coming from the house. Roger chuckles, and a wide, bright smile painting all over his face. He recognizes the voices of his two younger daughters, Lola and Tiger, and Sarina’s laugh joining theirs. And as they enter the backyard, goofily waving and shouting, Roger has an epiphany.

It doesn’t matter how heaven would be, or if Freddie does not look the same there, or even if he wasn’t able to do brilliantly about his best mate legacy.

Love conquers all. Whether it comes in the shape of your children, in the form of the women you dearly love, or the friends who never ever let you down.

He loved Freddie and still does. They were together through thick and thin, and who cares about those bloody three hundred yards. He was with him every step on the road and they did not need a sad-eyed goodbye. A broken and despaired Roger seeing him at the very end of his life was not what Freddie wanted, for sure. Maybe he did not want to spoil all those fantastic years together with a heartbreaking farewell. 

Roger stands up and opens his arms to welcome his daughters, and he likes to believe that the happiness he feels at moments like this, would become eternal once he enters heaven.

And he decides to think that way about Freddie too: flamboyant, loved, and full of joy for all the eternity.

_**Beyond the door, there's peace, I'm sure** _

_**And I know there'll be no more tears in heaven** _

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, please let me know by leaving kudos or comments below.  
> Your comment means a lot to me, always <3


End file.
